


Red vs Blue - Organ Trail

by PapaEngie



Category: Organ Trail, Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, M/M, i love pairing grif and church platonically, sister and tucker are only mentioned, sorry - Freeform, this is based off the game organ trail, you should totally play
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 10:30:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4603398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PapaEngie/pseuds/PapaEngie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grif and his team (+ church) have just set off on their journey to the safe haven across the country. Will they all make it alive? Or will they drop like flies, one by one, on the way?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Bite

**Author's Note:**

> a dumb story I wrote a long time ago based off a game of Organ Trail I played with rvb characters  
> all events that take place happened in that specific game c:

After hours of scavenging for food, ammunition and other supplies; Grif and his group set off in the beat up station wagon that they'd stolen and hotwired. Hopefully they'd get far enough away from D.C. before it got nuked in an attempt to eradicate the zombies.  
It was quite cramped inside the vehicle with the five of them.  
Grif was driving, Simmons was in the passenger seat holding their rations so Grif couldn't steal any, Donut, Sarge and Church shared the back seat with the rest of their supplies to make it harder for them to be stolen. Grif glanced briefly at the shotgun sitting in his lap, wishing that he had something like an ax or a steel bat instead. 'This damn thing will only attract more zombies.' he thought with slight worry. Still, he was grateful that they had any weapons in the first place. 

They made it to the first landmark without incident, trading and talking with the other survivors when they arrived. After an about 2 hours Grif rounded them all up and herded them into the station wagon. Simmons got back inside happily with about 37 dollars and 2 medkits in tow. The others managed to get more rations and some spare parts. Rations... Grif's stomach growled loudly at the thought of food. None of them had eaten anything on their way out of D.C.. Simmons rolled his eyes and started handing out small portions of food to each member of the group. After eating they set off again, it was now 3:00 pm. The map states that its 250 miles to the next landmark. If Grif wanted to get there before dark he might need to pick up the pace. They started out at a quicker pace than before, speeding along the cracked pavement toward the next landmark. Eventually they made it, with daylight to spare. Simmons, Donut, and Sarge went out to trade and exchange advice with the survivors, leaving Church and Grif to guard the station wagon. They talked a bit whilst cleaning their guns, eyeing anyone who came too close suspiciously. Grif and Church were in the middle of a discussion about what could lay inside the walls of SafeHaven when the zombies showed up. They slunk out of the shadows, stumbling along shakily towards the two unsuspecting survivors. Grif saw them at nearly the last second.  
"Church! Move!" He howled, standing up and yanking his friend away from the creatures. He kicked a zombie back and nailed it in the head with a blast from his shotgun. He killed the second and picked up Church's rifle, tossing it to him and turning back to fight off another zombie. 3 more zombies shuffled into the open and shambled toward Church. His gun was jammed. He hurriedly tried to fix the problem, killing the closest zombie by knocking its head off with the butt of his rifle. Grif whirled around just as one of the zombies sank its teeth into Church's arm. With an angry growl Grif beat the zombie backward and blew its head off, quickly doing the same to the other. Grif spun on his heel and crouched next to Church, who had fallen to his knees, and inspected the bite wound. Simmons and another survivor ran out of an alley and came to a halt next to them.  
"Oh my god, Grif! Are you guys ok?!" Simmons wailed, going pale at the sight of the wound on Church's arm.  
The stranger knelt next to Church and glanced at Grif.  
"May I take a look?" He asked quietly, pushing his glasses farther up the bridge of his nose. Grif glanced at Simmons, who nodded.  
"Sure..." Grif said, standing and taking a pace backward toward Simmons. The stranger rolled up Church's torn and bloodied sleeve and inspected his arm carefully.  
"Could you bring me a medkit, Simmons?" The stranger asked, brushing a lock of dark brown hair out of his eyes. Simmons nodded and walked around the station wagon, opening the back door and digging around the pile of supplies until a precious kit was found. The door closed with a bang and Simmons reappeared, handing the stranger the medkit. The kit clicked open and the stranger pulled out some bandages, rubbing alcohol and 2 gauze pads.  
"This will sting..." the stranger murmured to Church, soaking the first pad in the alcohol and wiping it gingerly over Church's wound to clean it and clear some of the blood. Church hissed in pain and gritted his teeth, muttering a curse under his breath. Then the stranger placed the second pad on the wound and expertly wrapped the bandages around Church's arm. The stranger helped Church to his feet and turned to Grif.  
"This wound shouldn't cause him to turn..." the stranger said, taking off his glasses and cleaning them with his shirt.  
"If you change the bandages every once in a while and keep him healthy, he'll be fine." Grif released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.  
"Thanks for your help, uh...."  
"DuFresne, Frank DuFresne. You can call me Doc." Doc said, holding out a hand for Grif to shake. Grif shook Doc's hand and grinned.  
"Thanks, Doc." He said, digging in his pockets for some money.  
"No, it's alright. You don't need to pay me." Doc chuckled.  
"Bullshit." Grif laughed, handing over 30 dollars.  
"At least take this much. That asshole you just patched up is my best friend." Grif held out the money and Doc reluctantly took it, still looking unsure.  
"You're the asshole, Grif." Church chuckled, wincing as his arm throbbed painfully.  
"Oh! Sorry." Doc said sheepishly, pulling a pill bottle out of his pocket. He shook out 2 pills and handed them to Church.  
"Painkillers would help a bit." Church tipped the pills into his mouth and swallowed them hastily, sighing as they quickly took effect.  
"Thanks, man." He said, placing his hand on Doc's shoulder briefly.  
"Let's go find the others and settle down for the night." Grif murmured, gazing at the setting sun. He turned back to Doc.  
"Thanks again." he said simply.

After the others had been found and told what happened they all decided it would be best to keep watch during the night. Grif took first watch. The hour went by without incident. No more zombies appeared and no thieves tried to steal any of their supplies. Grif yawned and opened the back door. "Sarge it's your watch, wake up." The older man opened his eyes and climbed out of the vehicle, stretching.  
"Shotgun." He grunted, holding out his hand. Grif gave him the shotgun and walked around the car to get into the driver's seat. He glanced at Simmons. His normally neat red hair was strewn haphazardly across his face, and his brow was furrowed as if his worries followed him into sleep. Grif reached out and took Simmons' hand, twining their fingers together. Simmons opened one eye and smiled, squeezing Grif's hand lightly. And despite the apocalypse raging around them, they both fell asleep peacefully.


	2. Don't sleep during your watch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simmons is a dumbass and starts falling asleep during his watch

The next morning they set out toward the next landmark, losing precious daylight by getting lost accidentally or having to navigate through heavy debris. Donut had managed to get measles somehow and was napping in the back seat with the others.   
Donut alone had used up 2 of their medkits, which pissed Grif off beyond all belief. His best friend had been bitten by a zombie for god's sake! Donut was, however, making a recovery, though it was a slow one. 

They stopped on the side of the road and Grif turned to look at the rest of the group in the back.   
"I'm going to scavenge while zombie activity is low." He said, grabbing his shotgun and a few extra shells. Simmons' brow furrowed in confusion.   
"Grif... We have plenty of food you know." Grif nodded.   
"I know, but what happens if we get robbed or lose some? I don't want to take any chances." Grif threw open the car door and pulled his handgun out of the holster on his belt.   
"Here." He tossed the weapon to Simmons. Church picked up his rifle and flicked the safety off. Grif closed the door and slunk away to look for food.   
An abandoned camp swam into veiw, ransacked. Grif cautiously picked through the wreckage and found unopened cans of beans, bags of chips and some bottles of water strewn about. A low groan pierced the silence. Grif whirled around and cocked his shotgun. A pair of zombies were stumbling toward him, flesh rotting and limbs missing. Grif killed them both by smashing their heads with the butt of his gun instead of shooting them; the sound would attract more. He gathered up as much food as he could carry and sprinted back to the station wagon, wrenching the driver side door open and jumping inside. He handed the food to Simmons and drove away from the site.   
Donut was finally cured once treated at the next landmark. When they all settled down for the night Grif took first watch again and pulled double so Church could rest.   
"Donut." Grif whispered, prodding the man with his gun. Donut opened his brown eyes and attempted to get out of the car without crushing Church. He pushed a blonde-dyed lock out of his eyes and reached for the gun he kept in his back pocket. Grif got into the car and sat there, staring up at the ceiling in deep thought. 

He didn't even notice the time slipping by so quickly. Donut was prodding Simmons awake.   
"It's your watch Simmons." Donut whispered, shaking Simmons lightly.   
"I'll take his watch." Grif said groggily, groping in the dark for his shotgun.   
"No, Grif. That's 3 watches worth. Go to bed." Donut scolded gently. Grif rolled his eyes and tried to get to sleep. He listened to Simmons get out of the car and load the handgun Grif had given him. A smile tugged at Grif's lips. Simmons kept the gun. With sigh Grif fell asleep with a stupidly wide smile plastered across his face.  
A series of loud bangs woke Grif up a little while later. He sat bolt upright and grabbed his shotgun. Simmons was a few feet away firing at a large group of zombies and hitting each in the head dead on. Grif kicked the door open and rushed over to help Simmons, firing at the group as soon as he was by his side. After about a minute or so Church was with them, followed by the other two members of the group. The hoard was dead within minutes.   
"Is everyone alright?" Grif called, receiving a nod from each of his companions. Simmons collapsed to the ground suddenly, clutching his side.   
"Simmons!" Grif yelped dropping to his knees next to Simmons and trying to pry his arms away to inspect the wound he'd received. Church was at Grif's side with a medkit in a moment, pulling out bandages and other supplies. There was a deep gash on Simmons' side and it was bleeding heavily.  
"How did this happen?!" Grif asked in horror as he took off Simmons' shirt and started cleaning the gash.   
"Z-zombies snuck up on me... Was half asleep..." Simmons groaned, his voice strained.   
"You fucking idiot..." Grif choked out. He swallowed the lump in his throat and continued dressing Simmons' wound. It was much more vicious than Church's and Grif was worried that Simmons would turn.   
And he REALLY didn't want to have to put Simmons out of his misery if that happened. After he finished wrapping the bandages around Simmons' torso he snapped the medkit shut worriedly.   
Grif helped Simmons to his feet and walked him back to the station wagon, sitting him down gingerly in the passenger seat.   
'Please be okay...' Grif thought anxiously, climbing back into the driver's seat. Once the others had piled back into the back seat Grif started off again speeding toward the next landmark in near total darkness. 

After barreling through a hoard of zombies and most likely denting the hood in the process, the group made it to the next landmark. A big city was the best place to be at times like this. Grif stayed in the car with Simmons, holding his limp hand and tracing circles on Simmons' palm with his thumb. The others, minus Church, had gone off to look for a doctor. Grif had begun to doze off when Simmons opened his eyes with a groan.   
"Oh my god... I hurt all over..." he whined. Grif's heart clenched at the sight of Simmons' pain.   
"The others are looking around the city for a doctor right now... Hopefully they find one." he sighed tiredly.   
"Grif..." Simmons whined. "Come over here..."   
Grif got out of the car and walked around to the passenger side, opening the door.   
"Yeah?" he asked.   
"Help me up." Simmons rasped. Grif hesitantly helped Simmons to his feet.   
"Sit." He requested. Grif sat down and his eyes widened in surprise when Simmons got back into the car and sat on Grif's lap, shutting the door behind him. Grif smiled and wrapped his arms loosely around Simmons, who had snuggled up against his chest and sighed deeply.   
"I've missed this." Simmons murmured into Grif's soft orange hoodie. Grif hummed his agreement and placed a kiss on the top of Simmons' head. Simmons' breathing slowed and deepened as he fell asleep, lulled by Grif's heartbeat.   
Grif absentmindedly stroked Simmons' soft red hair as he gazed out the windshield at the rising sun. It was actually quite pretty. The last time he'd taken the time to watch a sunrise he was at the beach with Kai and Simmons. He briefly remembered his younger sister and wondered if she was still alive. She'd run off with some idiot named Tucker, or something, a little while before the virus began to spread.   
Grif rolled his eyes and his thoughts wandered back to his home in Hawaii. He wished he could be back there. It was probably completely isolated from this shitstorm of an apocalypse. But he'd moved to DC with Simmons after they'd stayed in Hawaii for a few months. Of course this was before it became the chaos capital of the world. He remembered trying to teach Simmons how to surf. He chuckled. That attempt had failed quite miserably, though it was pretty amusing watching Simmons try to stay on the board. He'd given up on the first day. Grif sighed deeply and closed his eyes for a moment, allowing all the memories to flow forth in a rush. 

This was going to be a looooong trip.


	3. You again?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> just a little longer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is a lot shorter  
> and I lost my notes so I don't really plan on continuing it   
> oops

"Grif! ...HEY, GRIF!" Donut yowled, attempting to wake his sleeping friend. Grif woke with a start and blinked a few times as if he'd forgotten where he was. He'd gotten so lost in thought that he'd dozed off. Donut flashed him an understanding smile.   
"You'll never guess who I found!" He said, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. A familiar timid voice sounded from behind Donut.   
"Hello again, Grif." Grif sat up abruptly, waking Simmons from his sleep.   
"Doc!? Did you follow us here?" Grif asked, mouth agape. Doc laughed.   
"No, I've just been working my way towards SafeHaven just like you guys. I just must've beat you to the city."   
Simmons, who had been staring up at Doc curiously, placed both hands on Grif's chest and sat up with a wince.   
"So your friend Donut here told me that Simmons was bitten." Grif nodded and helped Simmons up and out of the car.   
"He was attacked last night by a hoard of zombies, got bitten too. It's a pretty nasty bite..." Grif helped Simmons out of his shirt and removed the bandages so Doc could see the wound that stretched from the left side of his torso to his right pectoral.   
"Oh my..." Doc murmured, a look of deep concern plaguing his kind face. The bleeding had stopped, but the wound was crusted over with dried blood.   
"A zombie did this?"   
Simmons nodded.   
"I need to get to work right away... Grif, please get me a medkit." Doc said with determination. He had to save Simmons.

It had taken hours but doc had gotten Simmons into a more stable state. He needed stitches to close up the wound, antibiotics, bandages, and gauze among other things. He now appeared fine. Sore, but fine. Doc was thanked and paid, though again he reluctantly accepted it. Grif simply wouldn't take no for an answer.   
Doc had saved one of the most important people in his life.  
They decided to rest for an hour or so before setting off again. Grif unrolled the map and studied the distance between them and next landmark.   
"Hmm... We're close. Three more after this, everyone." Church heaved a sigh of relief. SafeHaven was so close they could taste it.   
They stopped at the next landmark and inhaled some more rations, seeing as they hadn't eaten for a few days.   
"Eventful few days, huh Grif?" Simmons chuckled.   
"Yeah." Grif replied. He was still worried about both Church and Simmons' health. They both were fine enough, he guessed.   
They set off again towards the next landmark. 

This would be over soon.


End file.
